What makes a Ghost
by HybridRebellion
Summary: (Couldn't find a fic explaining the back stories of some of the main ghost villains so I wrote one myself) After a long day of ghost fighting, Danny falls asleep in the ghost zone only to be awoken by the Ghostwriter. Inside the Library, Danny discovers about the past lives of his enemies and what about being human makes a ghost.
1. Prologue

It had been a _long _day. Or so, the Ghost Writer had assumed when he found the half ghost sleeping on the floor of his library. With a blatantly annoyed sighed the ghost lightly kicked the halfa, rolling him onto his stomach. _"Unghf…."_ Danny Phantom let out a rather unmanly moan, his eyes beginning to flutter open. "Five more minutes Jazz…" He mumbled sleepily. The Ghost Writer watched with a wry smile as the white haired teen clutched his arms around his knees and curling into a ball. The smile did not last long; he was a ghost, albeit a well-adjusted one, but with that came being territorial. This time when he kicked the teen it was not as gentle, effectively rousing the ghost boy from his slumber. "Jazz! Quit it would you?" Danny immediately shouted irritably, leaping to his feet. The Ghostwriter was not amused. "Care to explain what you are doing here, Ghost Child?"

Danny's adrenalized eyes met Ghostwriter's cool ones. Danny was on the defensive; his body clenched tight, ectoplasm boiling at his fingertips, ready to battle at a seconds notice. In clear contrast, the Ghostwriter seemed simply, _bored. _His shoulders were limp, glasses and coat disheveled, a steaming mug held loosely in one hand. Nothing about his posture screamed "threat."

So Danny relaxed, the ectoplasm fading away and his shoulders dropping. "Sorry." He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Things got hectic at home. Everyone kept coming in through the ghost portal if I locked it from the outside…" The teen trailed off, tired from constantly ghost fighting and still wary of the formidable ghost in front of him. "So you locked it from the inside." The Ghostwriter concludes. He brushes his glasses up with the back of his wrist, taking in Danny's somewhat ragged appearance. He sighs again, turning away from the young ghost. _(Who, he mulled, was still very human with human problems to face as well as the ones posed by their ghostly brethren.) _ "If you must sleep, you may do so inside." Grey lips curled around a pointed smile, "Undoubtedly if you remain outside much longer our dear friend Skulker may find his way to your scent. And I am quite certain that neither of us would like that." He chuckled as Danny hurriedly floated past him. "I thought so."

Danny was in awe. He had never seen this many books before, particularly not in this wide of an assortment. One even appeared to take up most of a wall. But the set that piqued his attention the most was at the far end of the central room. Floating past several rather large and well-worn Victorian couched and a grand fireplace, Danny stared into the glass case holding seven impossible books. The Ghost teen pressed himself against the glass, searching for any defining mark on the covers of the books or any indication on why they rotated the way they did. The set of seven floated in a lazy circle with in the case, twisting occasionally as if to taunt any viewer of their contents. But the feature that captivated Danny's interest the most _(Even though if he was honest with himself it shouldn't be as strange or interesting as he found it)_ was that the books glowed. Six of these books glowed with an ethereal light emitting from the covers and each page, but the seventh only glowed from within the pages of the book.

"I see you've found my prize collection." Danny jumped at the sudden approach of the Ghostwriter. "Yeah. Umm… What are they?" Danny asked, gesturing with his thumb. The Ghostwriters eyebrows raised slightly, "You are aware what makes a ghost?" He asked with preemption. When the Phantom nodded in the affirmative the old Ghost continued. "There are many of these cases throughout my library. There is a volume for every, how should I say it? _Corporal_ ghost in the ghost zone. It is a chronicle and a testament of their life to their death." He smirked, "There's even one for you, quite the interesting read I must say. Most people only die once. You're going to die twice."

The Ghostwriters eyes softened when the Phantom seemed to wilt. He pitied the boy, he had opened his Chronicle and seen a side of the boy very few of the other ghosts had seen. "As long as you'll be resting here, why not read a book?" He said. The Ghostwriter turned abruptly on his worn heels, the tattered hem of his coat billowing impressively. "Oh, you'll need this." The elder male tossed a silvery object into Danny's hands. The teen smiled, "Thanks."

The key and case glowed for a moment before vanishing in a bright flash, leaving the seven books in a pile for him to choice from. With little thought, the teen plucked the top book from its perch and settled into one of the couches. He began to read.

_Skulker, the Ghost Zone greatest hunter was one a mortal man named…._


	2. Skulker (and the Dangerous Game)

**Oh geez, I'm sorry guys. I meant to post this almost two weeks ago, I wanted to post it before going on vacation but didn't manage to finish it before then. And then some family I haven't seen in five years came up to visit, so I've been busy with them too. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, Favorited, followed, and a special thanks to those you who did all three. (And to the person who added me to their favorite authors list: Aww! thank you so much! Anyway, I'll try to update much quicker this time. If you have any preference over which ghost you want next, drop me a message! And now, in honor of the damn SOPA bill coming back around: I do not own Danny Phantom, nor do I own "The Most Dangerous Game."**

* * *

In life his name was General Kent Husk.

He would have died alone and peacefully with his manservant had he not be bested in a battle of wits by a man with nothing to lose and everything to gain. His life ended on an island.

Husk grinned. The type of grin that showed all his teeth and made his manservant shiver with fear. "There's been another wreckage." He murmured, his eyes gleaming with the prospect of a hunt. "Vani, prepare the hounds. And fetch my gun!" He barked harshly, turning a cruel eye on his mute servant. Vani shuffled away quickly and silently, the limp he had received a none too pleasant reminder of the last hunt, when he had not moved as quickly.

The hunter turned his gaze back to the churning seas, dark delight playing in cold eyes. "Perhaps this whelp will bring a challenge to the Greatest hunter to ever have lived." Heavy boots _thunked _against the stone ground as the man turned and began walking leisurely to the front gate. His laugh echoed terrifyingly in the emptiness. Although far away, Vani shuddered. His master was a cruel, sick man.

_"Why am I here? What happened?" _A rather water logged man wondered to himself, stumbling around the beach like a drunkard. He coughed, water spewing from his lungs. "I was on the ship a moment ago…" He trailed off. _Oh_. That was it. He had been leaning over the edge, reenacting his famous hunt, when a wave had crashed into the ship; sending him overboard. The brunette squinted into the horizon in a hopeless attempt to spot his vessel. "No such luck…" The famous hunter muttered. He ran a gloved hand through his knotted mop of hair. "Jet Faros should not be reduced to _this."_ He sighed heavily, shifting his glare to the jungle taking up most of his view of the island. His eyes widened suddenly, tilting his nose to the air. "I smell smoke, smoke and meat." He grinned. "And where there is smoke and meat, there are people."

Vani knocked on the General's door, emitting a low croak. "Visitors?" Husk growled, "I never have… Visitors."

Jet stood on the threshold of a massive castle, impatiently hammering brass against wood. "Hello? I know there's someone in there!" He shouted, kicking the door with a note of finality.

Kent threw the door open with a snarl. "What are you doing on my island?" He asked in a voice like a poisonous snake posed to strike. "Currently? Sightseeing in hope of a honeymoon destination for me and my lover, I couldn't possibly be ship wrecked on the island named "Ship Wreck Island." Jet sassed, his temper worn thin. "My name is Jet Faros."

"The Jet Faros?" Kent asked with a renewed interest. "The famous hunter of beasts?" _Well, well. This changes things. _The raven stroked his chin thoughtfully. _On the one hand, this man is a hunting legend and worthy of my respect. Yet on the other, he would provide such a challenge. My last hunt was so… dull. _He chuckled darkly, recalling his prey's pathetic whimpering as his hounds ripped him apart. "I would like to challenge you to a game."

"YOU CALL THIS A GAME?" Jet bellowed, brandishing the knife Vani had handed him. "Playing with human lives?" The giant mute pinned the enraged man's arms as he lunged at his master. "We are NOT your play things to be disposed of once you are through, like a spoiled child!"

_My terms are quite simple. If you survive, you can go free. If not… Well, you're a smart man. I'm sure you understand. You get a knife, a pack of food, a change of clothes, and three days. Should you survive until the sun falls on the third day, then we can discuss your method of transportation home. Until, you must play my game. _

"I AM NOT A CHILD!" Husk fumed. "And you will play."

"Because that wasn't childish at all…" Jet lamented, crashing through the jungle. _Lets see how good this guy is. I'll make a few paths around here, then cut through the water in case he has hounds. High ground. Tree. Fuck. How can I survive this? I'm the hunter, not the hunted. _ Faros stopped suddenly. "Oh." With a sly grin, the man took off running in a different direction. "I can win this."

"Vani. I'll be back by nightfall. With Faros' pelt." Kent vanished into the darkness, leaving his servant in the castle. The manservant shuffled backwards, locking the massive door behind his master.

"Hello… Vani." The mute growled at the man's voice, struggling to form words with an empty mouth. "And, goodbye."

A sharp ear perked up, the hound reflexively searching for a sound to go on. Husk followed the beasts gazed as it padded the clearing. When the dog sat at his heel, the man gave a sharp whistle. The dog leapt to its feet, following its master as he made his way back to the castle. "Looks like the hunt will last for another night."

Husk growled with fury when he came through the castles foyer. Vani had allowed the torches to blow out, leaving them in utter darkness. "SLAVE! THE TORCHES ARE OUT AND THE WHELP ELUDED MY HUNT! WHERE ARE YOU?" He screamed in fury, striking a match and lighting the row of oil lamps circling the room. When the warm light flooded the scene, Kent hissed. Jet sat in plush armchair in the center of the room; Vani's corpse serving as footstool, his head held in the famous hunters hands. Jet's eyes were dark. "Your move." He snarled, flinging the mutes head to his former master.

General Kent Husk's eyes filled with fear, an emotion not seen on his face since his childhood years. "Checkmate." He conceded in a whisper.

Jet lowered his gun, the mingling pools of blood making his stomach sick. "May your spirit forever skulk in the shadows, forever attempting to complete your final hunt."

…

..

.

_"What are you doing here."_

_"I don't know."_

_"What is your name?"_

_"Skulker."_

_"What is your purpose?"_

_"To end the game."_

_"What are you?_

_"The Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter."_


	3. Life sucks And then you die

**Hello all! Sorry this took a few weeks! But I hope I make it up to you in this chapter, it's definitely my favorite one so far (And in the future I believe) **

**But I am going to give a bit of a warning on this, its definitely a "T" Chapter. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Shit." Ember swore under her breath, catching sight of several painfully familiar faces.

_Click. Clack. _

Ever since the rumors had started, none of the girls in her school had left her alone.

_Click. Click._

A teen movie cliché her one friend had remarked after a month of the torment.

_Clack. Clunk._

_No… Don't think about that… _Ember growled to herself, hastily biting back memories.

Silence.

"Hey, Amber. How's it hanging?" A pencil-like blonde asked, a tint of malice coloring her voice. "Yeah, feeling like crashing?" A powdered nose brunette tacked on. "Maybe, a little burnt out?" The third speaker demanded, cat like eyes boring into the raven with a hate poisoned glare. Ember swallowed, biting her lip and letting out a small squeal. She blushed furiously, refusing to make eye contact with any of the three girls and trying, with little success, to stare past the tall boy standing behind them. Unlike the three girls, his eyes were filled with more pity than spite and he turned his head to the side, jamming his fists into the pockets of a well-worn leather jacket. "Did that sound like a cat getting run over by a motorcycle to any of you?" The cat eyed girl cackled, brushing crimson locks from her face. "That was low Penelope. Even for you." The boy finally spoke, stomach queasily shifting at her words. "Leave Ember alone, you've done enough for today." He said softly, gently guiding Ember away from the three girls.

"I'm sorry."

The words hung in the still air of the courtyard as the awkward couple sat on the stone wall. "I'm really sorry Ember. For all of that." The dark haired boy said. "I can't believe Penelope actually said that." He shook his head. "She and Kitty were friends…"

The crash had been brutal. Absolutely, completely brutal. Kitty and her boyfriend, the older brother of Penelope's friend, Johnny has been driving home on a rainy night. Johnny drove a motorcycle emblazed with a large number thirteen on the side, painted on after one of his near disastrous stunts that earned him the moniker "Johnny 13." Kitty wasn't supposed to have been there, Johnny had told her she didn't need to go with him. But Kitty had insisted she go with him to pick up Shadow from the vet. So it was the three of them driving home on the rainy night, the lovers laughing as the rain soaked them to skin believing, the way teenagers tend to do, that they could live forever. They stopped at the red light, still laughing and petting the German Shepard through the crate. "I love this." Johnny had said suddenly. "I mean… Well…" He stammered. A car horn blared behind them, prompting Johnny to jolt, kicking the bike into motion. "I mean I love y-"

The truck barely had a dent.

"Kitty?" Johnny gasped for breath, dizzy from impact and shock. "Kitty… Where are you?" He fumbled along the ground, desperately searching for any sign of his girlfriend. "Joh…nny?" Kitty slurred, answering the frantic call. _Johnny… Why are you so far away? You sound like you went swimming. It's too cold for that. _The biker crawled to the girls side, fighting off E.M.T's with oxygen masks. "Kitty, I'm here. I'm right here." He whispered, horrified by what he saw. Kitty was a wreck, more so than his beloved bike which lie in halves across the intersection. He gulped, swallowing back vomit. Blood streaked Kitty's face, dripping down her limbs, pooling on the cold asphalt. Her legs were mangled, one bent grotesquely at the knee, the other… Johnny couldn't look. He couldn't bear to look at her. All he could do was hold her hand and wait. The rain poured down, drowning out the frantic calls of the panicked truck driver and the wails of the civilians in the surrounding. Johnny took a shuddering breath, finally looking down at himself. The dull throbbing of pain sudden sharpened to an agony he had never felt before. With a vacant realization he put a grey hand to the stump where his thigh should have been. A cold sensation gripped his faintly beating heart. Overbearing and intolerant or not, his mother had been a doctor. _Femoral artery… Never sever or… _Johnny grimaced, eliciting a scream from the truck driver. "Its 'not you ault…" He gurgled out, looking like a nightmare with crimson dripping between uneven teeth and skin as grey as death itself. _Never sever or bleed forever… _Johnny collapsed. The E.M.T's swarmed him now, tying a tourniquet around his severed limb and slipping a brace around his neck. A feeling of cold plastic rimmed his airways, bringing a slight relief to the fog in his head. _Man. Mom is gonna kill me. Or at least, she would, if… _

"I'm sorry Ma'am. We tried to save him, but he lost too much blood. It's amazing he lasted as long as he did." Johhny's mother pursed her lips, frowning severely at the young doctor in front of her. "And what happened that kept your _fine_ Emergency Medical Technicians from reaching my boy in time?" She hissed. The doctor swallowed back fear. "The dog." The blonde barked harshly. "That dog should not have stopped you." "Miss. You don't understand. The dog was spread across the intersection. But it stopped us from reaching your son."

_"Johnny… Where are we?" _

_"I dunno Kitty. It's pretty weird here though."_

_"No kidding… Hey! Is that your bike? What's it doing here?"_

_"Yeah. I dunno. Maybe we're supposed to look around?"_

_"Maybe… "Let's ride. See what's around?" _

Often times Ember heard conversations like this when she played on her guitar. Softer notes told Johnny and Kitty's happy tales, but harsher music echoed arguments Ember believed should have been left private. But still, she played until finally the music had told her what had happened to Kitty and Johnny and Shadow. Her stomach still heaved at the imagery.

Ember growled at the memory. "She wouldn't be saying those things if she had seen… Seen what they looked like." She shuddered, though not from the brisk December air. The boy shuffled in his seat, finally shifting closer to the girl. "Listen… Ember-" "Just shut up Jake. You don't have to pretend that you pity me or care just because Spectre was being extra bitchy today." The Rocker wanna be cut off the boy, who huffed in irritation. "Ember! Would you listen to me? I'm trying to be nice!" Jake pleaded. "I heard the rumors." He admitted, much more serious than he had been a moment before. Ember flinched, tempted to run. "Are they true?"

"Yeah…"

"Wanna catch a movie tonight?"

Ember blinked. That was _not _what she had expected to happen. She wasn't sure what she had expected, maybe something along the lines of Jake laughing at her and going back to Penelope or spoiled milk to magically appear in his hands to dump on her. But being asked out on a _date?_ She never expected that. "Really?"

Jake smiled, "Yeah. I'll meet you at Wade's at eight?" Ember returned the simple gesture. "Yeah, sounds great!"

Penelope grabbed at Jakes hips, "Come on Jakey. You can be just a _little _late. You know you won't be getting any from _her._" She half moaned into the boys ear, strawberry scented flames tickling his skin. "Spectra… Come on, Ember's-" He was cut off. "Ember this, Ember that. Jake please. Try being with a real woman for once and see if you really want to go back to that nobody." She whispered, toying with the buttons at his throat. "I.. I-" "Shush… I'll do the talking." Jake didn't protest anymore, he voice lost to Penelope's whims.

Ember checked her watch again. Eight-Thirty. She sighed, shoving her fists in her pockets. She could hear the laugh track of the movie playing drifting through the still air. She sighed again, resigning herself to leaning against the stone pillar, embracing the cold that permeated her thick coat. Her eyes drifted shut.

"Miss. It's ten O'clock. The movies over and it's starting to snow. You should go home now." A theater employee said kindly, helping Ember to her feet. "Thanks…" She muttered, checking her watch again and confirming the time. Heavy feet kicked though the light dusting of snow, leaving a trail of Morse code behind.

Numb with cold and disappointment, Ember slide her key into the lock on her front door, twisting the metal until a dull _click_ signaled that entry was possible. She shuffled inside, kicked off her Kiss styled boots, shucking her coat in the corner. "I guess it was just a joke after all…" She murmured.

A knock at the door snapped her out of her reverie. A slight groan indicated she had heard them as the girl began the tiredly laborious walk. The chain and deadbolt slid to the side and Ember pulled the creaking door open. No one. No one was there. As she turned to shut the world out of her house she paused, catching sight of a red envelope taped to the door. _Hun?_

The screech she made didn't even sound human; a mix of rage, anger, disappointment, and betrayal all wrapped in teenage angst ripping her lung apart. She shuffled furiously through the photo's until she couldn't see through the hot tears boiling over. _Jake. Penelope. Jake and Penelope. Jake in… Ew. Skin, Sweat, Sex. Why? WHY! _Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, struggling to absorb the images in front of her. She turned the envelope the pictures had arrived in over. Black lip marks stained the back, along with a hastily scrawled message. _"When I was done, he didn't even remember your _name."

She hissed, striking a match against the box it came in. One by one she held the pictures over the flame; eventually throwing the flames candle and all into the fireplace, tossing the pictures in with a scream. "I can't… Stay in here…" She muttered, scrambling to her room. She punched the radio sitting by her door, coaxing some music from the reluctant machine. Kitty would have called it a cliché too, throwing herself on her bed and sobbing furiously, but Ember didn't care. The emotions _hurt._

She sobbed and screamed until she couldn't keep her eyes open. It was cold and snowy outside but it was warm in her house. Maybe… A little too warm.

Ember Mclain never opened her eyes again. She never sang again. The sad notes of her guitar never played in between classes again. But, she was missed. In that was that bullies miss those they bullied, whether from regret or boredom. Jake blamed himself for the fire that had consumed her and her home. He believed that if he hadn't left her alone in the cold she never would have needed the fire to keep her warm. He regretted letting Penelope, well he preferred not to think about it. But Penelope had no regrets. She seemed to feed off the misery that the students emanated, replacing Jake with a small boy named Bertrand as her constant companion despite not particularly liking the freshman.

Every year on the anniversary of her death, Jake would hear a haunting melody. The voice sounded familiar, a voice he had heard in passing and dismissed. The song chilled him to the bone.

_Oh, Ember, you will remember/Ember, one thing remains/Oh, Ember, so warm and tender_

_You will remember my name_

_Your heart, your heart has mended/You're wrong, now bear the shame/Like pleasant dreams, in cold December_

_Nothing but ashes remain..._


End file.
